found that he had left his credentials behind him! Do you ask what I had left? You may guess if you will, but you must not ask me to tell you; for that would be to record my own negligence. I shall only tell you that, by the help of the good old book, and by rubbing up my memory, and doing what I am doing now, I was able to repair the mischief.

These fen farm-houses scattered all over this level country for scores of miles, always remind me of what I have read of American settlements. Of course they are superior to them, and better provided with comforts. But to a stranger from a large and crowded town they seem solitary and almost gloomy. Not so their inhabitants, who are cheerful, and happy, and hospitable. We found them so at the house of our old friend, who, with his wife and family, gave us a smiling and hearty welcome. The table was waiting ready spread with the good things of this "land of Goshen," as another old friend of our's down there used to call it; and then, on a delicious bed in the parlour, we sunk into sweet slumbers after our weary journey, and rose next morning refreshed and strengthened for the duties of the sabbath.

Our friend had built a small place of worship close by, for the double purpose of preaching the gospel and teaching the young; but as this was too small for the expected visitors, his two active sons had "knocked up" a spacious tent close by. The morning service was well-attended, but in the afternoon and evening the place was crowded. Where they came from was a mystery; but there they were, and all listened with becoming and intelligent attention to the glorious gospel of the blessed God."

Next day we looked about us. The season had been very hot, with little or no rain for several weeks. The ditches were all dry. We never saw them so empty. Turnips and other roots were languishing, but the corn looked promising. Flocks of geese and ducks seemed to be wanting their proper element, for they could not "dabble in mud," or swim where they were wont. Of fruit, apples especially, there was abundance. The branches of one noble apple tree hung laden with fruit down into the dry ditch several feet below the ground of the bank on which it stood.

In the house, our quiet but busy hostess and her maidens, with other helpers, were all making the most stupendous preparations for the afternoon tea meeting! What could it all mean? Here were scores of plates-full of bread and butter, and as many of plum cake, and scores more loaves to butter, and cakes to cut up. As for cream in gallons, and tea in pounds, and sugar in stones, I dare not speak. Why all the country must be coming!

And no sooner was a hasty dinner dispatched than they began to come-from the four points of the compass, and all its angles, they seemed to come-and until the time fixed for sitting down the cry was, "yet they come❞—many on foot, and others in all kinds of vehicles, from the little donkey cart to the great four-wheeled waggon with three horses, as well as more elegant and convenient conveyances, until the spacious yard was filled with them, and every stable and standing-place occupied with horses.

The tent had been fitted up with tables, and no sooner had one party partaken than another occupied their places, and

yet scores were waiting. The vast heaps of provisions were now fast disappearing, and messengers on horseback were dispatched in hot haste for more to the nearest shops. You should have seen how they did gallop!

But all things have an end; and so had this monster tea meeting, for it was one, if we consider the place where it was held.

The tables were now cleared, and preparations made for a speaking meeting. In the mean time numbers of young people, in various companies, had gone into an adjoining field for amusement. They were all in high spirits, and enjoyment seemed at its height, when lo! the overhanging clouds, which had been assuming a threatning aspect for some time, began to let fall heavy drops. This was alarm

ing; especially to the ladies, who had come in light summer dresses, not expecting such a visitation. You should have seen them run to any place where they could find shelterthe house, the tent, the barn, and every place with a roof over it, was soon full of them. But they put a good face on it, and made themselves merry with the misfortune. As for the meeting, a few brief addresses were given, but that was all, for the rain came thicker and faster, and soon found its way through the crevices of the tent, dropping thickly and heavily upon those beneath.

Now came a bustle for horses and conveyances, for it was useless waiting. It had set in for rain. It was near midnight before all were clear off, and past that before we all retired to rest.

THE GATEWAY OF "ECCE HOMO," JERUSALEM.

WE have already shewn you several sketches of objects in and near the "Holy City." This is another. From the name it bears it is supposed to be one of the arches or gateways through which our blessed Lord was led to the place of his execution on the mount of Calvary, where with wicked hands they crucified him.

"Ecce homo" are Latin words. In English they

are, "Behold the man."-the words his wavering and unjust judge, Pilate, used when he brought forth the Son of God to the chief priests and officers, "wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe." What a scene was that!

"They dragged Thee to the Roman's solemn hall,
Where the proud judge in mighty splendour sate;

Thou stood'st a meek and patient criminal,
Thy doom of death from human lips to wait-
Whose throne shall be the world

In final ruin hurl'd,

With all mankind to hear their everlasting fate.

Thou wert alone in that fierce multitude,

When 'Crucify him!' yell'd the general shout;

No hand to guard Thee 'mid those insults rude,
Nor lips to bless Thee in that frantic rout-
Whose lightest whisper'd word

The seraphim had heard,

And adamantine arms from all the heavens broke out.

They bound Thy temples with the twisted thorn,

Thy bruised feet went languid on with pain;
The blood from all Thy flesh with scourges torn,
Deepen'd Thy robe of mockery's purple grain-
Whose native vesture bright

Was the unapproached light,

The sandal of whose foot the rapid hurricane.

They smote Thy cheek with many a ruthless palm,

With the cold spear Thy shuddering side they pierc'd;
The draught of bitterest gall was all the balm

They gave t' enhance thy unslak'd burning thirst-
Thou, at whose words of peace

Did pain and anguish cease,

And the long buried dead their tombs of slumber burst.

For us, for us, Thou did'st endure the pain,

And Thy meek spirit bow'd itself to shame,
To wash our souls from sin's infecting stain,
And save us from hell's never-quenched flame-
Thus Thou, our love did'st win,

By saving us from sin.

All glory would we give to Thy all-glorious NAME!"

"I'M GETTING OLD."

I'm getting old, I'm sure I am, I'll tell you how I know;
When I look at me in the glass it plainly tells me so;

For though my hair is not turned gray, and I have plenty yet,

My sunken cheeks and wrinkled brow I do not like a bit.

And when I meet with some old friend, with whom I once did play When we were lads, but have not seen for many a long day